


The Imagine Hastur Epilogue

by irisbleufic



Series: CoT ’Verse (& Extended Environs) [2]
Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Breaking the Fourth Wall, Do not translate without permission or copy to another site/app, Epilogue, Established Relationship, Fallen Angels, Ficlet, Gen, Gender Identity, Hastur Is A Hot Mess, M/M, Meta, Metafiction, Nonbinary Character, Prompt Fic, Prompt Fill, Reconciliation, Reflection, Silly, Trans Character, Tumblr Prompt, Wistful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-06
Updated: 2019-06-06
Packaged: 2020-04-07 21:55:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19093867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irisbleufic/pseuds/irisbleufic
Summary: “It’s finished,” says the human, blue eyes sharp as ever.  “Why are you here?”“Reckon I got it wrong the first time,” Ligur replies.  “I thought you was a girl.”





	The Imagine Hastur Epilogue

**Author's Note:**

> In the spirit of [**the original Imagine Hastur Ficlets**](https://archiveofourown.org/works/728117/chapters/2046565), I’ve opened requests. These two formed a sort of epilogue to **[CoT](https://archiveofourown.org/works/728117/navigate)**.

**1.** _**imagine hastur meeting irisbleufic (present day)** _

Six years on, Ligur is sure the human he’s looking at is the same one he saw [that one time in the subway car](https://archiveofourown.org/works/728117/chapters/2046565).  He has an excellent memory for faces.  Different part of America now, hotter and drier. It explained the faded copper hair.

The human isn’t writing like the first time.  Watching, watching _everything_ , Ligur and Hastur included.  There’s a phone in the human’s grasp, though, and the image on the screen is a red-and-white page with lots of text.

“It’s finished,” says the human, blue eyes sharp as ever.  “Why are you here?”

“Reckon I got it wrong the first time,” Ligur replies.  “I thought you was a girl.”

The human shrugs.  “Everyone had been telling me that for years, so I thought I was, too.  It’s not like I blame you.”

Hastur, who’d been looking at the screen, sniffs like there’s something in his eye.

“For being what we are?” he sneers, looming close enough to touch.  “You’re no better than Crawly’s angel, eh?”

The human’s eyes soften as they reach, but it’s not Hastur’s hand they catch.

“No,” they say, fingers cool against Ligur’s palm.  “I loved them first, but I loved you, too.  I did the best I could.”

Ligur sniffs, deciding there’s no shame in it since Hastur is in the same boat.

Nodding, he grasps the human’s hand, shaking it for the first and last time.

 

 **2.** _**imagine hastur so thoroughly drunk he forgets he can just sober up** _

The human’s considering Hastur, bottle poised at their lips.  They drink a third, fourth, fifth time, and then offer what’s left.  Glinting liquid, ruddy as dried blood, _enticing_. Ironic, given human brewing and distilling had been divine initiatives.

“S’that _whiskery_ stuff,” Ligur explains in a whisper.  “Like fancy gents drink.”

The human winces, eyes squeezed shut in silent laughter.  “Close enough.”

Hastur gulps what’s left in the bottle.  It burns the whole way down, flame from throat to gut.  He wheezes.

Taking back the bottle with those quick, cool fingers, the human just looks at him.

“You can say you hate it.  Just ’cause single-malt’s my thing doesn’t mean it’s yours.”

The room’s swimming.  This sand-swept place is hell in ways Hell will never be, and this human’s thriving.

“Don’t hate it, mate,” Hastur slurs, shamefully  _grateful_  Ligur’s there to catch him.  “You did all right.”


End file.
